


Death To All Hipsters (Except Maybe One)

by coolangelsthesis



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Debates About Hipsterdom, Flirting, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 03:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17378732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolangelsthesis/pseuds/coolangelsthesis
Summary: Am I a fucking hipster?The thing is, he already knew. He liked the look of loose beanies and the taste of vanilla soymilk and enjoyed the music he played while driving that awfully pretentious Nudle bus more than he liked to admit, but he was no hipster… right?





	Death To All Hipsters (Except Maybe One)

**Author's Note:**

> The last time I wrote fic or even POSTED it was a year ago exactly and if that isn’t a weird feeling
> 
> whoops, here I am in 2019 writing for a dead fandom. but it’s ok because you know what? do what your heart tells you. and during my third playthrough of watch dogs 2, my heart told me to write the wrencus (which i recently discovered the ship name for and that’s. so. cute) i always wanted. 
> 
> so yeah. whoops! hope i write fic this year actually lmao

The question had been on Marcus’s mind for a while now.

When he passed mirrors he eyed over his outfits-- _Are these hipster clothes_? He cringed a little when he asked for soy in his latte-- _Is this a hipster drink?_ And under any circumstances, he skipped over any songs that seemed even remotely pretentious-- _Is this hipster music_?

_Am I a fucking hipster?_

The thing is, he already knew. He liked the look of loose beanies and the taste of vanilla soymilk and enjoyed the music he played while driving that awfully pretentious Nudle bus more than he liked to admit, but he was no hipster… right?

He knew it. And he didn’t want to admit it. The culmination of all these things branded him as Grade A Hipster Material.

And as any good hacker knows, being a hipster hacker was as close as you could get to being a social pariah. Hipsters and DedSec? Like oil and water.

So he finally worked up the guts to bring it up to Wrench. Which was strange. It’s not like Marcus had anything to be nervous about, like his friend would do anything but laugh and list all the reasons why he was a filthy hipster.

It was weird, talking with Wrench. It was the most natural feeling in the world, they were so alike it felt like they’d known each other forever. But at the same time, it was extremely and absolutely terrifying like a derailing roller coaster that also miraculously caught on fire somewhere along the way. His brain was chill but sometimes his heart couldn’t stop racing at a million-thousand miles a second.

Marcus decided to blame it on Wrench’s volatility. Just that. In his line of work, where each day is spent probing for the answers to questions, deciding not to dwell on some things was for the best.

He brought the hipster thing up one late night, after having spent most of the day tracking down and disabling a few ctOS servers. Most of the crew was away from the hackerspace, sleeping probably, but Wrench was still awake as usual. Now that he thought about it, Marcus had never seen Wrench actually sleep. The guy seemed to run off of anger and caffeine.

“So Wrench, how exactly am I a hipster?” he asked, distracting himself from the firewall he was getting nowhere with.

Wrench, currently ripping apart the front display of a ridiculously overpriced blender, barked a laugh.

“How _aren’t_ you a hipster, dude?” He asked back. “I’ve caught you listening to NPR, for one. That’s unacceptable.”

“Aw, c’mon. They have some good think pieces sometimes.”

The eyes on Wrench’s mask lit up with two pointed exclamation points.

“There, there, that’s it right there! You know what kinda people say ‘think pieces’ without cringing? Hipsters!”

“But I don’t care about free-trade bullshit or have a ukulele hanging up in my room.”

“That’s to hide the incriminating evidence, my friendo.” Wrench swung a hammer down on the blender’s glass plate, shattering it to bits. “You’re a hipster xenomorph inside of cool Marcus’s body. You seem like you’re chill and like you have good taste and then before you know it-- _boom_! Your chest rips open and a scarf-wearing motherfucker jumps out asking if you’ve heard the new Mumford & Sons album. With a PBR in its creepy ass hand.”

“You just compared me to a xenomorph. Ouch.”

“I’ve seen the crocs that you wear ‘ironically’, M. I know your deep dark secrets.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “I’m not that bad!”

“Okay fine, you’re still somewhat cool, obviously,” Wrench continued, fishing into the broken glass for the motherboard, “We wouldn’t have let you in if you weren’t cool. But you’re walking a thin line. If you ever come in wearing a bowtie or… eugh… a _cardigan_ , I will personally escort you off the premises.”

“I’ll be sure to keep a note of that,” Marcus replied, smiling wide. “No cardigans. No exceptions.”

“On that same note, if you’re taking orders, always be sure to wear those shorts that make your ass look good.”

“What, is that your subtle way of flirting?”

“Was that subtle? I don’t really do subtle.” Wrench’s mask flashed two question marks before winking.

Shit, there was Marcus’s heart going again. It just started racing like it had no right to. Sometimes he wondered if Wrench’s flirting was just as ‘friendly’ as they both rode it off to be. But knowing Wrench, his dial was probably set to Constantly Horny, and this was just how he was with everyone. Still, didn’t mean it didn’t make Marcus’s heart skip a beat or two.

He had to come up with some sort of diversion to get himself back in check. Thankfully, his stomach decided now was the perfect time to remind him that he hadn’t ate at all that day.

“Come on, we should get pizza,” Marcus said, closing up his laptop.

The mask’s eyes became two pleased caret signs.

“Hell yes! You are brilliant, Marcus.”

And there his heart was going again when Wrench gripped his hand tightly and dragged him up the stairs. Maybe he needed to go to a doctor to get this shit checked out.

\---

Adorable. Wrench thought Marcus was absolutely adorable-- and that had to mean something, since everyone on the planet thinks puppies are adorable, and he can’t stand the stupid little things. Marcus being adorable was something special.

The best part was that Marcus was very, very easy to fluster. And with of all of Wrench’s talents, flustering people was probably what he was best at, next to blowing shit up. Even better was that Marcus was also very, very adorable when he was embarrassed.

Okay, maybe Wrench had a crush. So what? It’s not like it would go anywhere. And it wasn’t because they were both dudes. Come on, it’s San Francisco.

And Marcus wasn’t very subtle about it, either. When he was stoned out of his mind, he loudy confessed his love to all of the male celebrity crushes he had growing up (which just so happened to be about the same list as Wrench, give or take a few of the more obscure ones. Fucking hipster).

The thing is that Wrench wasn’t Marcus’s type. Plain and simple. And he wasn’t going to ruin his his relationship with his best friend in the whole goddamn world over his daydream fantasies. But that didn’t mean he would stop flirting anytime soon, because how could he not?

So he had been keeping up this thing about Marcus being a hipster for a while, because every time Wrench teased him about it, he bent over backwards to try and explain how he was absolutely, definitely not a hipster. To be fair, a good case could be made for Sitara being a hipster too, but she was much more likely to kick someone’s ass for even going there, so Wrench didn’t try it.

But Marcus made it way too easy for him sometimes.

They had just barely made it out of one of Prime_Eight’s bases, and Marcus was driving like a bat out of hell to avoid the cars on their lead. Marcus had been interested in settling a score for leaked DedSec data, while Wrench was busy snatching up some nanotech they stole from RenSense.

“On your left, Marcus!” Wrench shouted as a car was close to crashing into them.

Marcus swerved and dodged them. That earned a “Nice!’ from Wrench. But Marcus’s hand slipped and lost control of the wheel for a moment, nearly crashing into a civvy. That earned a “Shit!” from Wrench.

There was a parking garage coming up; Marcus took a swift turn in, losing the trail of the cars directly on them. He pulled into an empty slot in the back corner, deep in shadow, remaining still until the coast seemed clear.

As cars zoomed past without stopping, Marcus let out a sigh of relief, and Wrench went in for a fist bump.

“Nice work, man. You were so fucking awesome,” Wrench complimented, which Marcus smiled and waved it off.

“Nah, it’s all good. I’m just glad we got out of there. That Prime_Eight smell never goes away, does it?”

The DedSec channel lit up.

“How’d it go, boys?” Sitara asked. “They going apeshit?”

“They’re going to be flinging their shit everywhere when they find out we installed a backdoor into their main servers,” Marcus laughed.

“Niice.”

“Did you find any nanotech?” Josh chimed in.

“Nothing too special, some more nanobots,” Wrench said, pulling the vial out of his pocket, admiring it like it was the prized diamond in the bank heist. “Ooh.”

“Hey, Wrench, be careful with that,” Marcus warned. “You still interested in them, Josh?”

“No, just concerned,” Josh replied. “If someone else comes after you for them… it could become dangerous.”

“We’ll drop them off at the Hackerspace,” Wrench said. “Josh will keep them safe, right, man?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Then I’ll go and teach this guy how to take a compliment without getting embarrassed. He still goes into Awkward Marcus mode every time.”

Sitara laughed. “Good luck with that. See ya soon.”

Both her and Josh’s feeds cut out at the same time.

“And I absolutely can take a compliment, thank you,” Marcus added. He started the car back on, rummaging around on his music app before putting it in gear.

“Oh, play me something good. Something I’d like,” Wrench said. _Yes, this is absolutely a hipster test_ , he felt like adding, but he was pretty sure by the look on Marcus’s face that it was already implied.

Squaring up his shoulders a little defensively, Marcus turned his phone away a little so Wrench couldn’t see what he was doing. Even if he tried to lean over to look. Rude.

Then a glitched out, distorted beat started and Wrench was sure his mask’s eyes turned into exclamation points. “Nice choice. How’d you know I like Die Antwoord?”

Marcus smirked while pulling out of the parking spot and out of the parking lot.

“Just a guess. Did I pass your hipster test, my good sir?”

“With flying colors!” Wrench enthused, patting Marcus on the shoulder.

Seeming pleased, Marcus headed back onto the highway. They both jammed through the entire song, until it faded off and another slower, familiar beat started.

Marcus clicked his tongue.

“Aw man, that beat is just Aphex Twin. They didn’t change anything at all.”

There it was. Marcus’s hipster xenomorph ripping through his chest. Wrench grinned behind his mask, thrilled at the opportunity to begin teasing him.

“...Dude, Marcus. I just said you passed the hipster test, but with that, you completely failed.”

“What?! That’s not cool.” Marcus seemed to go on the defensive. Caught in congested traffic, he threw his attention over to Wrench. “I’m _not_ a hipster.”

Dammit, there were those big puppy eyes from him. Is that what people liked about puppies so much, their eyes? Because if Marcus had the puppy eye thing down, Wrench could maybe see why people liked puppies so much-- but he could deal with puppies. No. This had to be Marcus throwing him puppy eyes instead. Unfair.

He had to look away or his mask would start flashing heart eyes again. He hated how the thing gave away shit sometimes.

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks, M. A real hipster _would_ fight against being called a hipster. A non-hipster would just be like ‘Oh okay sure I’m a hipster, whatever’ and drop it there, but noooo. Fighting against it just proves you are, man.”

Marcus just kind of... went quiet for a moment. Which was exhilarating because it meant Wrench was right and he was going to be basking in this for months and months to come. But it was also terrifying because Marcus always had a comeback. To everything. This was new.

Wrench was certain his mask was lit up with all the happy faces he could jam into the thing.

“Checkmate, broski.”

“Shut up,” Marcus mumbled, turning up the sound of the music as loud as it could go, then turning it to something louder to drown out Wrench.

But Wrench was still pretty fucking loud. “Marcus Holloway: San Francisco’s Biggest Hipster,” he said in his best Movie Trailer Guy voice.

Marcus began to smile, but he bit it down. “Shut up.”

Wrench began to laugh, and soon after, so did Marcus.

So there they were with music blasting, roaring fits of laughter, caught in the dead of traffic, but it was amazing. Yes, even if Marcus was a dirty hipster, it was okay because Marcus was absolutely adorable. For a hipster.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! i really enjoyed writing this, they’re both so good? they’re good and in love and should kiss a lot. maybe i’ll write that?
> 
> let me know what ya thought, comments are always awesome. you can catch me on twitter at noizomi_ too. nice


End file.
